Borchin was the owner of the industrial processing plant Lazlo had demolished.
“I thought we had an understanding.” Borchin remained standing, his hands stuffed in his pockets, though Oleg could see they were fisted.
Ivan’s billionaire was unhappy.
“Trust me,” Ivan said, “we do. But you must understand that these things happen sometimes. My people cannot be in all places at all times.”
Oleg didn’t blame Borchin for being irritated. He knew exactly how much the billionaire was paying Ivan for the privilege of immortal security around his plants.
“These things happen?” Borchin’s eyes were darting between Oleg’s silent presence and Ivan. “I have had other offers to take over my security, you know. They warned me this might happen.”
“Who?” It was the first time Oleg had spoken because it was the first time he had a question.
Borchin hesitated, his eyes still darting between Oleg and Ivan. “People.”
“People?” Ivan bared his fangs. “Our kind of people?”
The fear flashed in Borchin’s eyes. “I didn’t say I was going to accept the offer, but there must be some kind of insurance if these things justhappen, Ivan.”
The human was smart enough not to threaten Ivan. Even Oleg wouldn’t blame his brother for getting rid of the man if that were to happen. Exposure put all their kind at risk, and Victor Borchin was prominent enough to not be written off as a crazy person rambling about strange monsters who lived in the shadows.
But it was normally good policy to keep the humans placated. Despite immortal strengths, their kind had weaknesses too.Namely, they were limited by daylight, where humans like Victor Borchin were not.
“We will make it right,” Oleg said. “I will see to it.”
Ivan shot him a look but said nothing. “Of course, Victor. You will be compensated for the loss. We’ve had a good relationship, have we not?”
Ivan had probably had no intention of compensating the human before the meeting, but since Oleg had offered it, now he’d have to pay for the rebuilding.
Which was good. Ivan should compensate the human, because Oleg certainly wasn’t going to do it. And Lazlo, who was responsible for the entire thing, was watching birds in Sochi.
“Come.” Ivan finally stood. “Let’s have a drink, and you can tell me about your new yacht.”
Oleg stayed sitting and wondered what exactly Ivan would add to Victor Borchin’s drink to make the man sick without killing him. Because that was exactly the kind of thing that Ivan would do. The vampire had no skill for subtlety; he believed in threats and force.
Just as their father had taught him.
Oleg watched carefullyas Ivan’s men took out the perimeter guards surrounding the warehouse east of Moscow. The men moved silently and efficiently with little to no showing off.
Well trained.
“Who trained them?” Oleg asked quietly. He’d thrown a cloak over his power, and the world around him felt muffled.
Ivan pointed his chin to the right. “His name is Yury. Cossack from Rudov’s territory originally but sired by one of Pavel’s sons.”
Pavel’s sons. That would explain the discipline.
Snow fell delicately on Oleg’s bare arms, steaming as the flakes met his already warm skin.
There was the crackle of a radio, then a shout of surprise closer to the warehouse.
“Intruders!”
Within seconds, a stream of hard-faced Kazakh vampires flowed from the warehouse, curved swords in hand. The earth moved under his feet, and the Kazakhs moved so swiftly and silently Oleg knew that had he not been there, most of Ivan’s men would be dead before they saw their attackers.
Oleg snapped his fingers, brought blue flames to his palms, and shouted, “Pozhar!”
Immediately, all of Ivan’s men dropped to the ground, and Oleg swept his arms out, casting a wave of flame toward the saber-wielding vampires.
